


It's A Beautiful Lie

by Batwynn



Category: Frostiron - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, Not A Happy Ending, Possible Part 2, Sad, but a hopeful one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1297573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batwynn/pseuds/Batwynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something broken does not always need to be fixed. Sometimes you just have to accept it as it was, cracks and all.</p><p>Loki was complicated. He wasn’t made of metal and wires, he didn’t bend under Tony’s will, and he made it clear he sure as hell wouldn’t appreciate Tony’s help. So, in the end, he was left with no other choice. He was going to have to watch the god die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's A Beautiful Lie

Something broken does not always need to be fixed. Sometimes you just have to accept it as it was, cracks and all.

Even if he had the means to fix him, Tony would not damage the god’s pride by doing so. That’s what he told everyone, anyway. He knew he was the mechanic who lived to make things whole again. Who, when faced with his own death, invented new ways to live again and again. That was his thing, and maybe Pepper had been right, he did have a bit of a hero complex. But come on, if you can do something, do it. Fear was fuel, not a road block.

Then again, Loki was complicated. He wasn’t made of metal and wires, he didn’t bend under Tony’s will, and he made it clear he sure as hell wouldn’t appreciate Tony’s help. So, in the end, he was left with no other choice. He was going to have to watch the god die.

  
_______________

Sometimes it seemed like things were fine, which was hilarious because things were _never_  fine. But there were those moments where Tony could swear time had slowed down. They were untouchable, invincible,  _gods_. He could smile like he used to, and maybe even let forth an honest laugh. Loki didn’t change as drastically as Tony expected when they found out. The god had remained the same thought it all, stoic but oddly cheerful. It was as if he just… Didn’t give a shit anymore.

Tony knew that feeling. He remembered what it was like to know your own death, and accept it. What do you do? Do you mourn for your final days? Do you end it sooner to save yourself the fear?

No, it was easier to laugh, to party hard, to live like the obnoxious asshole you should have been before. Because It was so much easier to love the things around you when you put a time limit on your life.

Then, there were the bad days. These usually started with a visit from Thor and ended with screaming or crying. Often both.   
Somehow, Thor got it into his big, blond head that he was going to save Loki. That, he alone was the one who held the key to the cure. If it didn’t destroy Loki every time he showed up, Tony would find it sort of cute that the big guy loved his little brother no matter what had happened in the past. He was just a little stupid sometimes, and failed to understand why each amazing cure he brought back hurt Loki more and more. He was stupid and desperate, and  _selfish._

Tony was selfish too, and he was much better at hiding it. Even when he snuck away every day to do exactly the same thing as Thor. Tony was always good at acting nonchalant, so he shrugged and pretended to accept Loki’s fate. But as soon as the god fell asleep, he dove into his work. His research, his experiments, his new inventions. All of them revolved around one thing. Fixing Loki.   
 __  
If you can do it, do it.  
  
But seven months had passed since his lover had started to deteriorate and he hadn’t found a thing. Not a single, god-damn thing. During the entire time, he stuffed it away. The greedy desire to keep Loki to himself. The need so strong, it left him as parched as the thirst from his time in the desert.

Appropriate comparison, considering just how empty his arsenal was again. Just a man, surrounded by sand. Sand that was slipping through his fingers faster each day.

_____________

When the change started, Tony wasn’t paying attention enough to notice. It was little things, at first, that slipped past him and had lodged somewhere in his subconscious.

About seven days before, Loki stopped smiling as much. He stopped going out with him on the grand ‘Loki’s Bucket List’ adventures. He stopped seeing Thor and he stopped using magic. They hadn’t even had sex for three days. Tony only really started noticed the difference when he found Loki on the bathroom floor, dry heaving into the toilet. Nothing was coming out of the god but tears and retched sobs.

"Lokes," Tony whispered, running his hands down the god’s back. "If today’s a bad day, we can stay in."

Loki coughed and let out a hollow laugh. “Today is not a  _bad_ day.”

"Come on, you can’t go out if your sick."

Loki looked at him with distant eyes. He opened his mouth and started to say something before changing his mind and nodding in agreement.

"Alright," Tony said as he helped the god up from the floor. "Back to bed with you. I’ll bring you some tea."

He could pick Loki up now, which was terrifying in itself because no matter how thin Loki got, he always had this strange weight to him. Like the weight of the cosmos was on his shoulders or something. He noticed the way Loki’s body seemed to bend and melt under the pressure of his fingers. When he gently placed the god down, he felt the way his bones grated together.   
He gazed down at his love and started to see all the things he had missed.

Loki’s hair was turning white from the roots. There was already longer streaks of grays scattered throughout his, usually perfect, black locks. His skin was nearly translucent, giving Tony a good view of the dark veins below. The vibrant green eyes that usually looked back at him with confidence and love, had dulled to a muddy gray.

Tony let out a faint gasp and brushed a shaking hand through Loki’s hair.

"It’s not just today, is it?"

"No…"

"When—" Tony choked and clenched his other hand into a fist. "When did it start to get worse? Why didn’t you  _tell_  me?”

Loki tilted his head into Tony’s hand and gave him a smile that broke his heart. “Things have been bad since that spell, Anthony. I simply no longer have the strength to hide it anymore.”

Tony swallowed the desperate, angry cry that threatened to escape. So it had been an act, just like his. Only Loki had been the better actor, as usual.

"As for why I did not tell you," Loki continued, nuzzling against Tony’s hand, "you know why."

"I don’t. I don’t know why. I don’t understand a fucking thing about this. Why can’t I do anything? Why can’t I know how bad you’re feeling? Why can’t I—"  
 __  
fix you  
  
He snapped his mouth closed and turned his eyes away. He wasn’t supposed to show this to Loki. He didn’t need to see how scared he felt, or how desperate he had become.

Why had nothing worked? Nothing that Thor had brought back from Asgard, or the elves, or even the Frost Giants. Species from across the nine realms had offered their assistance, which was probably only because Thor had asked. It had been a loving gesture, all the same, and it seemed to really surprise Loki at the time. But a gesture was all it was. No one knew how to fix Loki, and no one knew how painful that knowledge was to Tony, not even Thor.

Because he fixed things. Because if he could do it…

He turned and gave Loki and nice, wide smile. “I’m gonna get you that tea and get a little work done before we hang out. Sound good?”

A small hint of disappointment flashed across the god’s face, but there was nothing Tony could do about it. He needed to try again. It didn’t matter if it was the 456th time he had tried to fix this.   
 __  
If you can do something, do it.  


  
_____________

Tony had been gone for an hour while Loki watched the steam from his tea slowly stop drifting into the air. He shifted at last, turning over painfully to face the window. Something flashed at the edge of his vision, something bright.

Loki let out a gasp and reached up with trembling a hand to pull the strand of hair away from his face. It was white. Pure white all the way down to the tips. Loki pulled more of his hair around to examine it and found the rest had become bleached as well.

"No…no, not yet," he whispered before his attention was caught by something else. His hands.

They were not just pale anymore, they were fading from sight all together. He could no longer see the tips of his fingers, or the black-painted nails that Tony had helped him do a week ago. They had laughed at the sense of irony and Tony had said something about mourning colors. But they were gone, stolen away from him.

Loki choked out a sob and clutched his hands to his chest. He had done well, hadn’t he? He fooled them all with a smile and endless grace. He had tried so hard to keep from breaking down and asking—no,  _begging_  for help.

He knew where Tony went at night, where he spent his time away when he thought Loki was sleeping. The man had done his best, too, in keeping up the facade. But Loki knew him. He was the man who fixed things, the stubborn man who never gave up. If anyone were to do it, Tony could.

And Loki believed it. He hid it away behind acceptance, but Loki had hope. Desperate hope that clawed at his chest and made his heart race every time he heard the bedroom door open after another night of Tony’s experiments. Because maybe this time, just maybe, he had done it. Then it was the next night, and the next, and the next. The hope never died, Loki just got tired.

He couldn’t hold himself together when there was so little of himself left. He knew his end was drawing closer when he lost chunks of time to darkness. Just a vast empty space for hours until he was back again, finding himself staring at the wall. Now, he was fading faster than ever, and Tony hadn’t saved him.

Loki ignored his vanishing body and sat up slowly. He could no longer lie to himself. Tony could not fix him. If he could not be fixed, he would at least spend his last moments with the person he loved.

"JARVIS?"

"Would you like me to contact Mr. Stark, sir?"

"Yes…"

The AI fell silent for a moment before he replied, sounding almost hesitant, “Shall I tell him that your vitals are failing?”

Loki glanced up at the ceiling, a habit he had never been able to break even after all these years. “Are they?”

"Sir, I would suggest he knows."

Loki looked back down at his hands, and realized they were gone now. His arms had become even more translucent and he didn’t dare move back the covers to see his legs. If he had legs anymore.

"T-tell him to… hurry."

"Of course, sir." There was a pause before he spoke again, "if I may, I wish to say something now, sir."

Loki nodded absentmindedly, still staring down at his deteriorating body.

"It was a pleasure working with you and I wish to thank you for what you have given Mr. Stark."

Loki chuckled weakly and looked up again. Old habits never die. “What did I give him?”

"Happiness, sir."

"Ah," Loki said, "I did one thing right, then."

______________

He was out of the lab in less than a second. All it took was JARVIS saying those four little words.

"It is time, sir."

He grabbed several things from the work bench and booked it up the stairs, unable to wait for the elevator. He burst through the door and froze when he saw Loki. What was left of Loki.

He was already almost gone. Loki was somehow sitting up, curled awkwardly around a blanket. He was shaking, and Tony saw blood on the bed around him.

"Loki…" he breathed, dropping the gadgets he knew wouldn’t work anyway, and rushed across the room. "Loki, oh  _god_ … oh shit, what’s happening?!”

Loki peered at him as if he was having trouble seeing and muttered, “I am leaving… now.”

Tony crawled over the bed, his hands and knees turning red from the blood. He didn’t care about the bed or his clothes, or the fact that there wasn’t really anything to hold on to anymore. He just curled around Loki, and held on the best he could.

"Don’t," he begged, pressing his face into Loki’s white hair. "Please, please, please  _don’t_.”

"I cannot s-stop this anymore than y-you can…"

"I tried!" Tony wailed, feeling his hand slip through what was supposed to be Loki’s shoulder. He couldn’t even find where the blood was coming from to stop it.

"I know," Loki whispered close to his ear. Their eyes met and Tony let out a whimper.

"I tried… I can do this, I can fix this."

His hands slipped through air and he groped for anything left to hold on to. He found Loki’s cheeks and cupped them in his hands, feeling warm tears wash over them.

“ _Please…_ "

  
“Anthony,” Loki’s voice said, fading fast, “find me again…”

"I will," Tony promised and pressed his lips against the shadow that was left of Loki’s mouth. "Don’t go too far, okay? I’ll find you."

"Anthon—"

Tony slumped forward suddenly, his body no longer meeting any resistance. He panicked, ripping the blankets apart, desperately searching for anything left. Any sign that Loki was still here. All he found was blood and a cold cup of tea, still sitting on the night stand where he left it.

Loki was gone, right out of his arms. Tony didn’t do it. He hadn’t _fixed_ him.

__________________

3,568 tries later, he got it right.

  
“I will find you again.”

Tony grinned at the small device in his hand, and pushed the button.

_  
If you can do something, do it._


End file.
